Proibito
by Subtlynice
Summary: Her greatest passion is not music or dance or literature. Her heart sings instead for revenge. For justice to be delivered. Gianna/Felix. Oneshot written for SulpiciaDoesn'tApprove's Volturi fanfic contest.


**This was written for the "Volturi fanfic contest" with the prompt word "justice".**

**Author:** Subtlynice

**Title:** Proibito

**Characters: **Gianna, Felix

**Genre:** General

**Rating:** T

**Summary:** Her greatest passion is not music or dance or literature. Her heart sings instead for revenge. For justice to be delivered_._ Gianna/Felix.

**Warnings:** Implied child abuse

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Proibito

"Gianna."

She doesn't turn around. If she turns, she'll see the face that accompanies that voice, and in doing so, she'll lose all reasonable thought. This is an important moment for her. She must be clear-headed.

"Felix," she says in acknowledgement. "I am glad to meet you once more."

The creature behind her chuckles and the sound fills her ears like music. But there is something wrong with the music – as if bells were playing, but in the wrong order. There is discord in the air. She can feel it.

"I am much obliged," the man – or monster – replies smugly. "And I appreciate your use of the English language. You will be good for us, I think."

She represses a shudder. _Us_. Plural. More of them. Felix is just one among many, and the thought motivates her where it should promote fear. Soon, if they would allow it, she could be like them too.

But everything comes with a price.

"Am I to assume you have considered my application, then?"

Felix laughs at that, too. It is not a warm sound, and she wonders if it should scare her. But she is here for a reason. She is letting go of her fear. The scared little girl she once was is gone. Now she can feel no fear. Pain is numb to her. Her greatest passion is not music or dance or literature. Her heart sings instead for revenge.

For justice to be delivered. And who better to deliver it, than the upholders of justice in the darkness of this world?

"We have done more than consider it, Gianna, my dear," he coos. She hears him take another step towards her. "We have deliberated, and we would be much obliged if you would join us."

He pauses, perhaps for dramatic effect – she feels on show, as if this is a test or performance of some kind. An illusion. None of it is real.

"Tonight," he concludes.

Fear and anticipation swell in her stomach as she takes in the meaning of his words. Tonight. Is she ready? Can she really do this? Abandon her sister, her hometown, her friends?

She closes her eyes and sees her father's fist slam down once more.

She sees herself, strong and powerful, delivering the justice she deserves.

She opens her eyes with new determination.

"That will be manageable," Gianna agrees. "I am willing to go with you now, if there is nothing more to say."

The _vampiro_ behind her chuckles.

"I was right," he says with clear amusement in his tone. "You will be very good for us indeed, Miss Barresi."

She freezes.

"Gianna," she corrects sharply.

Felix sounds shocked at her manner. "Excuse me?"

"Gianna," she repeats, and her tone is still just as forceful. "My name is Gianna. No variations."

"But your application said – "

"The application required me to write a surname," Gianna explains, harshly. "But that is my father's name, nothing more. And I am _not_ my father's possession. I have my own name and would appreciate its use."

Felix is quiet. The silence stretches on as endlessly as the setting sun, and so she breaks her own rules and turns towards him. His face is shrouded in darkness, but what she can see of his features still amazes her just as much as it had before. He stares at her with a peculiar expression. Fascination and respect. She doubts he had ever taken much notice of her until then.

"Gianna," he repeats, respectfully. "My apologies, miss."

"That is quite alright," she says, suddenly scared that she has overstepped an unspoken boundary line. But Felix grins warmly.

"You will meet Aro tomorrow morning to discuss our requirements in full," he continues. "I must say, it is a delight for me to be the one to introduce you, _mia cara_. I am quite sure that you will fascinate him as much as you do me."

She finds herself blushing at his term of endearment. It is a silly reaction and she curses herself for showing weakness.

Felix sighs and then inhales very obviously, causing her blush to grow. He chuckles.

"Do not tempt me so, _mia cara_. We would not like to cut short your term with us, would we now?"

She shakes her head, still cursing her weak, human body. Soon, she hopes, a promotion will be given. One that she will welcome with open arms.

"A blush is one thing, but fresh _sangue_ is more potent to us, as you will soon find," Felix continues. "I hope you are not too squeamish."

Gianna shakes her head resolutely. There was once a time when she shied away from the sight of _sangue_ - blood. But that was before violence became such a common occurrence in her life...

Night by night, woken up by the scent of whiskey and dirt, tossed from corner to corner by a man she could no longer bear to call _Papa_.

A shout. A scream. A fist.

And then... her vision went red. There was nothing but blood. She could see it, smell it.

Taste it.

But he wouldn't hurt her anymore. Papa wouldn't be able to find her here. And if all went to plan, it wouldn't be her own blood she would taste if they crossed paths once again.

Justice would be served, and Gianna would deliver it with a smile on her face. Her vision was still reddened – but with his blood, rather than hers. When she'd finally worked up the courage to run, to escape from the Tuscan town she'd never left before, she'd managed to find shelter with an old, kindly lady who told her frightful tales... things she'd never heard the like of before.

"Don't linger on Tuscan paths, my dear," she'd whispered conspiratorially, "there are wicked things living in this part of the world. I shudder to think what they'd want from a pretty little girl like yourself."

And in Gianna's heart, singing with hatred, the idea of wickedness pleased rather than repelled her. She wanted to be wicked too. All her life, she'd been the innocent victim. It was time to have some victims of her own.

She knew she was pretty. Beautiful, even. She'd prided herself on her looks before papa's fists had bruised her face. But she'd used her beauty to her advantage before, and now that she was free, she had no qualms over doing so again.

It hadn't taken her long to find them. She'd been right – appearances were everything in the outside world. Everywhere she went, the streets stank of vanity and careless pride. Nothing was deep or meaningful. The world was superficial – a pool in which she could see the shallow depths easily.

And it had brought her to Felix, who assessed her now with a satisfactory grin.

"Very well, my dear," he says. "Follow me."

She takes a few steps, but then pauses abruptly and turns on her heel for one last glimpse of the scenery before her. Twilight is closing in and the very last rays of sunlight are straining against the oncoming black of night.

Her greatest ally had been the sun. With every sunrise brought freedom. Papa had to work during the day. She was free to leave the house in the sunlit hours – to go to school and play and visit Mama's grave. The nights were ghoulish, but she always smiled when she saw the first rays of a fresh new dawn approaching.

Now, as the sun sets before her, it holds none of the significance it used to. It seems frail and weak – struggling vainly against the darkness, as if it will never rise again. She wonders when she will see it again.

She can feel Felix's gaze boring into her back.

"Seguimi," he commands. "Come with me."

But still, she hesitates.

"Il sole?" She asks, speaking for the first time in her native tongue.

Felix smiles wickedly.

"È proibito."

Orange rays line his face, seeming to shine like the stars newly awakening in the sky.

Proibito. Gianna is fluent in English, but she is Italian born and bred.

_Proibito: Prohibited._

Never to see her old saviour, the sun, again. Could she do it?

She thinks of Papa's fists once more and curls hers involuntarily.

Proibito.

She turns and follows Felix into the darkness.

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A/N: I keep uploading one-shots instead of new chapters, but I promise, I'll finish the next TB chapter soon. This one has been half-written for months now, and the contest provided an excuse to finish it. Anyway, the Volturi rock. Anyone who agrees with me, go check out SulpiciaDoesn'tApprove's profile page and the community for the contest. Read the other nominations too, and give them some reviews. Spread the Volturi love!

And please, please don't vote unless you've read all the entries. It's just a fun, friendly contest and the other entries are wonderful, but I know I get a lot of story views compared to other authors on this site and I don't want the others to not get the votes they deserve. So, if you're going to vote, read the other stories beforehand, or you might change your mind later on and decide mine was awful compared to someone elses!

Thanks to Camilla for her much-appreciated help with the Italian for this story! x


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